


Catharsis in Darkness

by Cougar_car



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Animal Instincts, Animal Transformation, Dragon Tony Stark, Gen, Gen Fic, Hurt Tony Stark, Night Fury Tony Stark, No Slash, Teambuilding, Tony-centric, Transformation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-01-04 22:51:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21205385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cougar_car/pseuds/Cougar_car
Summary: The scepter has always been nothing but trouble. After all, magic is at its source, and magic is always finding some new way to screw with Tony. And sure enough, after Tony gets into a fight with the Avengers over the scepter, he is inadvertently met with a terrible fate. Night Fury!Tony.





	1. Chapter 1

Sometimes, karma was truly a bitch.

Tony recognized this soon after working on the scepter, which had been so gracefully gifted to him after the finding of it in a HYRDA base. He had spent many hours with JARVIS and Bruce using it to try to create a program that would correspond with the AI they discovered nesting inside. A program that would soon be called Ultron.

Thor had given him just a few days to work with the scepter before he would be returning the device to Asgard, but in the past couple of hours, oddities had begun to occur. And not the great kind, at that. Small portals had opened themselves up in the city of New York, all with relatively high elevations and away from the public, to the Avengers’ relief.

That was probably when Tony should have handed the scepter over to Thor with a ‘thanks, but no thanks’ letter attached, but his stubbornness apparently hindered his thinking process. According to JARVIS, the portals seemed to be doors to another dimension, but whenever anybody got too close—namely, Thor—they would let out a burst of energy to keep others away. Thankfully, the effect seemed to reciprocate on the other side.

The energy signature of the portals matched that of the scepter, which had also started releasing enormous amounts of energy soon after Tony got ahold of it—another sign of impending doom. Bruce had given up working with Tony entirely, while also trying to convince Tony to leave it alone which, again, was karma attempting to send him a red flag. However, Tony wouldn’t have any of it, as he saw the scepter as the only opportunity to get the Ultron Program working.

And now, Bruce just finally realized that Tony wouldn’t give up easily, so he rushed out the door of his lab to find the other Avengers. Ugh. Tony watched him go with a steady glare, feeling betrayal worming its way into his stomach. Well, if he didn’t think world peace was worth a few risks, then he could miss all of rewards and attention. It was Tony’s idea, anyways.

His feelings were sour, but Tony couldn’t really get himself to believe the thoughts. He’d found early on that it was just better to force hurt into anger; it was much more manageable. And unhealthy, according to Pepper. But, she didn’t live in a tower full of superheroes, so what did she know?

A lot. She knew a lot.

Any spiteful thoughts about Bruce were washed away once the team scuttled into the lab. Steve walked in, followed by Bruce, Thor, Natasha, and Clint; karma’s last warning. Each of them stared at Tony expectantly, like they thought Tony would give it up from simply peer pressure. Well, they were wrong quite often.

“We can’t keep it, Stark!” Steve yelled at him, fists clenched with frustration, always so eager to punch his problems away.

“The Captain speaks the truth,” Thor said, authority radiating from his figure. “It will cause nothing but harm. It is only safe within the walls of Asgard.”

Tony felt irritation grip his chest yet again. Everything was such a mess. They were blind to how much the scepter could help the world, but what else should he have expected? They simply couldn’t see the potential of a system for total peace, or a form of protection against the beasts residing outside of their solar system. Tony hated to go against the entirety of the Avengers, but it seemed they just didn’t understand. It wasn’t like they ever understood before, but they had never been an actual obstacle in the past.

“This could be the key to world peace,” Tony argued, even though his words felt empty. “If I can get Ultron to work, then we’d never have to worry about another war! Alien invasions would be a thing of the past!”

“It’s opening portals across New York, Tony!” Bruce shouted back at him, eyes tinged slightly green with exasperation. His only partner, turned against him. Tony tried to ignore the stinging in his chest.

”We could fix that,” Tony urged, mustering up whatever determination was left in him. “I just need you on my side, Brucie.” Bruce took in several deep breaths, hands running through his hair.

“At first, I thought maybe. But now that it’s releasing this strange energy signature, I can’t. We need it gone.”

Tony squeezed the bridge of his nose with a sigh, which was arguably petulant. He would never admit that it hurt, seeing them all like this. Against him, like he was the enemy. If only they could see the potential like Tony did, but Tony’s hopes never went anywhere. He didn’t know why he thought this would be any different, that _they_ would be any different.

He was just so tired of fighting everyone.

Just as Tony was about to persist, JARVIS spoke urgently from the ceiling, sounding alarmed. “Sir, the energy being released from the scepter is increasing in strength. I am afraid we must dispose of it soon, or it could cause a substantial explosion inside of the tower.” Well, shit.

”Then that is what we will do,” Thor declared, striding towards the scepter. His head was held high as if he assumed that nobody would dare cross his path. Once Tony noticed Thor making purposeful steps towards the scepter, he jumped in front of him in protest. Nope, not once chance. He wasn’t letting them take this away from him.

Thor’s eyes widened as Tony leaned ahead of him, hand reaching out to snatch the scepter. “Nope, sorry, buddy. Finders keepers.”

”Tony, wait!” Clint called as Tony grabbed the scepter, pulling it to his chest, fueled by resentment alone.

In that moment, a glimmering burst of blue light beamed from the scepter, blinding each of the Avengers. They all turned away and pulled their hands to their eyes, but not before they heard an agonized scream rip itself out of Tony’s throat. The second Tony placed his hand on the scepter, a spike of fiery pain raced down his spine. The feeling then began to permeate his body, the intensity increasing with each ferocious bolt. He let out a wretched screech when he felt something inside of him shift, his vision going completely blank. Tony collapsed to the floor in a crumpled heap, his consciousness falling away before his shoulder even hit the ground.

It was so terribly cliché, Tony couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen it coming sooner.

* * *

When Tony’s consciousness returned to him, he immediately felt something different, foreign, and <em>wrong</em>. He was lying on his stomach, chin resting on the cool floor. It wasn’t the weirdest position he’d woken up in, but was unceremonious nonetheless.

Tony could hear the terrified gasps of his teammates surprisingly well, which caught him off guard. His hearing had been marginally damaged from being in such close proximity to weapons and loud music, but it was as if that damage had never occurred. A dull ache also pervaded his form, the feeling worsening when he attempted to open his eyes.

Once Tony managed to peel open his eyelids, he did not get what he’d anticipated. His vision was awfully clear. It was in fact so clear, he could see every feature of his friends’ frightened faces. Woah, who knew Cap could open his eyes so wide.

_The hell?_ he thought perturbedly, blinking a few times in an effort to see normally again. It wasn’t as if he didn’t appreciate his heightened sense of sight, but it was a quality that he’d have to get used to. Jesus, this was like the strangest hangover ever. His thoughts felt as sluggish as his limbs. But that was when another thought approached the forefront of his mind, Am I a supersoldier now? Is that really how it works?

“Tony?” Bruce asked hesitantly, his stance positioned as if he was ready to run at any moment. The rest of the Avengers shared similar demeanors. “Are you... feeling okay?”

“Did you seriously just ask him that?” Clint hissed from Bruce’s left. “Look at him! Of course he doesn’t feel _okay_!”

At that, Tony only felt more confusion. Sure, he felt a little unusual, maybe a bit unfamiliar, but that didn’t explain why his friends were so afraid. They didn’t even seem like they gave two shits about him ten seconds ago. But that was when he tried speak to up. Tony’s response cut itself short when an odd, incoherent sound left his mouth. It was almost like a _growl_. Tony furrowed his brows and tried again, the same sound leaving his lips. His tongue ran through the roof of his mouth experimentally, bringing the fact that he lacked teeth to his attention.

_What the actual hell_, Tony thought, his mind beginning to race with equally awful possibilities. He tried to get to his feet, but those felt off, too. He looked down to examine what was wrong with his faulty limbs, letting out a startled cry when he didn’t see his familiar appendages. Instead, he saw two black, scaly arms beneath him, each one holding four claws. Actual _claws_.

Tony let out a frightened hiss, trying to stumble to his feet. Those, apparently, he had four of now, none of which he knew how to control. _What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck._

“Tony, calm down,” Bruce tried, knowing that the attempt was futile. Tony continued to scrabble to his paws, his team watching with held breaths. Tony shakily stood on his four legs, staring with terror at his teammates. He couldn’t even remember why he’d been so angry at them. He distantly acknowledged the tattered remains of his clothing on the floor.

Tony then tried to maneuver his jaw in order to form words, but to no avail. This was the biggest _nope_ situation he’d been in yet; even worse than floating in creeping abyss of space. He hadn’t been covered in scales while in space.

“The scepter has stabilized and portals have vanished,” JARVIS informed slowly through the speakers, sounding just as horrified and astonished as everyone else.

Tony flinched when JARVIS spoke. He seemed so much louder than before. Tony drew in a cautious breath, feeling shocked when a load of scents assaulted his nose. He scrunched his eyes from the sudden mass of smells, disliking the ability to taste the air.

“Friend,” Thor began carefully. “Perhaps it would be best to sit.”

Tony, despite his enhanced hearing, could barely pay attention to Thor’s words. He could only focus on not panicking and keeping his breathing steady. His trembling worsened when he attempted to take a step forward, the new feeling of being on four legs sending him waves of vertigo. Yeah, there was no competition. This was his worst shenanigan yet.

Tony froze when he felt another thing drag behind him. His heart sank when the most logical explanation made itself present in his mind. Reluctantly checking his musings, he tried to twist around, mouth gaping when he saw not only a tail, but two more strange, winglike limbs hanging from his shoulders. _This is not happening to me._

He shifted his gaze back to the Avengers, unable to stare at himself any longer. Tony could admit that he was beginning to feel a little queasy, but he couldn’t get himself to lie back down. He also found himself struggling to bear the intent stares of his teammates, eyeing desperately for the nearest exit. They’d never looked so intimidating before.

Once Tony began backing away, a few of the Avengers took a step forwards, each wearing expressions just as astounded as his.

“Tony, just wait,” Natasha eased, hands held out in a calming gesture. Tony tensed when she slowly made his way towards him, breathing quickening as he recoiled. She wasn’t exactly a relaxing figure to him.

“We can fix this,” Steve reassured, although his tone was doubtful. He eyed Bruce for support, but Bruce only stared at Tony helplessly.

Tony then twisted around, darting backwards, racing as quickly as he could towards the lab’s exit. He staggered unsteadily, paws dragging clumsily on the floor as he tried to make sense of his new body. He streaked out the door, nearly tripping quite a few times, ignoring the desperate calls of his teammates. He was thankful that they weren’t confident enough to pursue him. His tail and wings dragged uncomfortably across the floor, forcing Tony to use his unfamiliar muscles and pull the appendages up.

When the elevator came into sight, Tony crashed inside, thankful that JARVIS had already opened the doors. That, he had programmed into him. It was confined and cramped within the walls, his wings pressed tightly to his back so that he could fit.

Tony distantly heard the elevator carry himself upwards, letting out a sigh of relief when the doors slid open to reveal the hallway connected to his room. He stumbled out of the elevator, making his way unsteadily to his door. When he reached his door, he pawed at the door handle with agitation, accidentally tearing it off in the process.

Tony stared at the hole left in the door, suddenly worried about how Pepper might react to the damage. It definitely shouldn’t have been his first concern at the time. He then let out a low whine, nosing the door open and crawling inside. He was startled by how bright the room appeared, despite the lights being off. Tony was unable to resist the urge to climb atop his bed and hide in the covers, burying his head in the fabric.

_I am so fucked._

* * *

Tony lost track of how long he lay on his bed, trembling with rapid breaths. He was sure that he was going into shock, but who could blame him? A very not possible, very unwelcome magical thing had happened to him today, so it wasn’t his fault if he felt a bit panicked. Magic had the tendency to make him a little on edge.

JARVIS spoke to Tony periodically from the ceiling, alerting him of the Avengers’ whereabouts and actions. Tony listened absently from his tense position on the bed, hating the feeling of his foreign wings splayed out around him. His tail twitched unconsciously behind him, displaying his dissatisfaction. _I can fix this_, he assured, trying to slow his frantic breathing. _I’ve got a lab, an AI, and a raging, green science buddy. If anyone can fix this, it’s me._

The thought of his fellow Avenger made Tony’s anxiety heighten. He knew that he’d have to face the team eventually, but he was rather comforted by the thought of never leaving his bed again. Ever. He loathed the idea of confessing that he actually felt sorry about the negative thoughts he’d had about the team earlier, especially since their concerns were right. God, he was such an idiot.

“I should of let Thor take the scepter,” he sighed, grimacing when a guttural growl left his throat. However, he still continued. “But nope, I’ve always got to mess with the glowy, alien technology and hope that it’ll turn into something. This is what I get.” Tony paused, taking into account that it _did_ turn into something, but then cursed himself for ever letting that thought enter his mind.

“Are in need of anything, sir?” JARVIS inquired from above, probably wondering if Tony was trying to speak to him. Tony shook his head in response, suddenly triggering a powerful curiosity to see what he looked like. His previous brief examination left him disgusted, but now, his scientific side was getting the best of him. Again.

“The Avengers wish to speak with you,” JARVIS informed him, sounding expectant. Tony snorted stubbornly, covering his head with his paws like a difficult child. He knew that he was being ridiculous, but it was his damn tower. He could hide in his room if he’d like.

Tony heard the sound of the elevator doors opening before JARVIS alerted him of the Avengers’ presence. “They are on there way now,” JARVIS unhelpfully provided, drawing a glare from Tony. When the sound of footsteps and hushed voices grew louder, Tony let out an internal groan and mentally prepared himself for the confrontation. He didn’t know why they wanted to talk. Well, he sort of did. But it wasn’t like he could _speak_ or anything.

“Tony?” Steve asked from the other side of the door, smartly choosing to ignore the broken remains of the door handle on the floor. “Can we come in?”

Tony let out a growl, which was supposed to be a no, but Steve took it as a yes. He pushed the door open cautiously, peeking inside to make sure Tony wouldn’t pounce on him. Tony gave him a look that said, _Seriously?_

“It’s sure dark in here, man,” Clint observed, being the second one to inch into the room. Tony had actually forgotten the lights weren’t on, with his new super vision and all. He could honestly get used to it. Bruce and Natasha followed, Thor being noticeably absent from the group. Bruce must have noticed his questioning gaze, as he explained Thor’s disappearance.

“Thor went to return the scepter to Asgard. He thought it’d be best to get it away from here.”

Wait, what?

“He did_ what?!” _Tony shouted, or bellowed, jumping from his bed. The team reacted promptly, rearing a few feet. They all broke into defensive positions, Clint and Natasha both hovering their hands over the guns secretly holstered on their hips. Tony chose to ignore that particular detail, as he was too preoccupied with denial to ponder over it.

“I knew you’d be mad,” Bruce said carefully, guessing accurately what Tony said despite not understanding him. “But it was necessary. We can’t have that technology here anymore.”

Tony just stared at him, outraged. He suddenly realized that he had teeth again, although they were sharper than he recalled. Not only was Tony loathe towards Bruce, but he was angry that JARVIS kept this information from him. Did they not realize that the scepter was needed to reverse this mess? How did they expect to transform him back without it?

“Tony, look what it did to you. What if it were to happen again?” Natasha reasoned. Tony bristled, hissing at her in warning, daring her to continue. He felt his tail lashing wrathfully behind him, knocking against the bed with repetitive thumps.

Tony couldn’t believe that they intruded in his room just to deliver this news. They didn’t have the right to do that. Tony felt the growing urge to kick them out of the tower and give them some time to think about their actions, all while trying to find money and a place to live. Maybe his previous ideas about them were correct after all.

_That's not true_, Tony thought ashamedly. _They care. They wouldn’t be here if they didn’t_.

Feeling cornered and a bit hostile, Tony abruptly headed towards the door, eyes narrowed disdainfully. Steve, the Avenger standing in front of it, narrowly avoided getting shoved by Tony. While heading out the door frame and towards the elevator, Tony caught an exasperated sigh.

“You can’t just keep running from us!” Clint yelled, knocking the door out of his way.

_I can and I will_, Tony retorted silently, waiting for the elevator doors to open. It was unusual for JARVIS to take this long, and Tony was beginning to grow impatient.

“Sir, I would advise that you listen to your team,” JARVIS recommended. Tony felt a sour rush of betrayal fill his stomach. Even JARVIS wasn’t on his side, the ungrateful, traitorous AI.

Tony snarled, flipping back around to face his team. He was genuinely pissed now; not just because his team was acting like they’ve never encountered an actual problem before, but also because he was being treated like a delicate child that was having a temper issue. Tony was about to let them know that much in a mess of guttural growls and roars, but his plan ended abruptly when his eyes landed on the barrel of a gun.

Tony felt his livid attitude ebb away and be replaced by a deep shock. The air in his lungs was beginning to feel jagged and sharp. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Did they really think that he would hurt them, and that they needed to threaten him in order to get him under control? Tony’s eyes drifted up to meet Clint’s, his side pressing against the cool elevator doors.

_Where is JARVIS?_ Tony thought, panicked, but still disbelieving. His eyelids peeled back further when Clint tapped the trigger of the gun, whatever breath that had been left in his lungs exiting forcefully. He wouldn’t, _couldn’t_, shoot him. Right?

Despite his will to continue living, Tony bared his teeth, raising his head in defiance. There was absolutely no way Clint was going to shoot him. He trusted him, goddamnit. But still, Tony could admit that he felt doubt, especially once Clint pulled the trigger. A click sounded. Tony dropped to the floor in an attempt to dodge, but froze when a strange texture touched his side. What, _huh_—

A stream of water splattered onto Tony’s scales, running down his side and onto the floor. Tony stifled a gasp, whirling his head back over to the team when Clint started giggling. He stood back up when the enraged shouts of his teammates followed, Steve’s being the most prominent. They must’ve been too shocked to intervene. Or so Tony hoped.

“Why would you do that?” Steve yelled, hand gripping Clint’s shaking shoulders. Clint was laughing so hard that he nearly fell over, arm under his stomach to support himself. Natasha rushed over to his side and delivered a punch, causing a grunt to interrupt Clint’s laughter.

“We thought you were going to kill him!” Bruce said, sounding out of breath. His skin rippled subtly, and Tony hoped that he wouldn’t have to repair another floor of the tower anytime soon.

“Oh come on, it’s fine,” Clint huffed, rising back up. “I would never shoot him! Look, it’s just a water gun, but disguised. That makes it the coolest prank device of all time.”

“Or the scariest!” Steve rebuked through gritted teeth. “Don’t you think he’s been through enough today?”

“He’s alright.” Clint turned towards Tony, moving the spotlight back onto him, to Tony’s discomfort. “Right, Tony?”

Tony blinked, unsettled and unsure about what to do. He was probably supposed to be pissed, but his body was still under the _oh god I’m going to die_ spell to do much more than stand there. But now that Tony’s brain was beginning to return to normal function, he wondered why he didn’t do more to stop the attack other than look threatening. After all, his strength likely rivaled Steve’s now, if the doorknob was anything to go by.

His loathing fueling his movements, Tony a few steps forwards, keeping his eyes locked on Clint as he lowered his head. Then, to the approval of the team, Tony leaped onto Clint, crushing the disguised water gun under a paw. Clint let out a sorrowful cry, an arm stretched out towards the remains of the water gun.

Tony drew in a deep breath, filling his lungs to their fullest. He doubted that the team—especially Steve—would approve of any physical damage, so Tony instead _roared_ directly into Clint’s face, making sure to empty his chest of any and all air. Clint spluttered and coughed, covering his mouth and nose with a hand once Tony pulled back. Tony had a dog bark at his face once. He knew it wasn’t pleasant.

It was the team’s turn to laugh, as each of them were almost doubled over in a fit of hilarity. Even Natasha smiled, which was a rare sight, and Tony felt some form of accomplishment from the reaction. He would ask JARVIS to store the footage later, perhaps as blackmail. Tony even let out a strange series of warbles, which did not go unnoticed by the team.

“Dude,” Clint choked, sitting up. “Your breath smells awful.”

_I’m glad_, Tony thought, satisfied that Clint took discomfort from the experience. It was what he got for pulling a gun, real or fake, onto Tony and making him think that he was actually going to die. Not by a terrorist group, or shrapnel in the heart, but by his teammate’s own gun. He was going to get him back for that later, though. The tension of the air had vanished, leaving very few traces behind. It was amazing what they could do to each other and still forgive themselves. Sort of. Tony was seriously going to get Clint back, though.

“Now that this is aside, we can start making some progress in reversing this,” Bruce announced, observing Tony in a way that made him squirm. After all, he didn’t exactly know what he looked like yet. “Are you ready?”

Tony nodded, the thought of working on something to reverse the transformation making his heart race with excitement. Like many of his problems, Tony had pushed the whole physical transformation thing to the back of his mind, and while it was not quite healthy, it was a lot easier way to deal with it. His former curiosity about what exactly he _was_ now also returned, and Tony wanted nothing more than to make himself back home at his lab.

“Then let’s go,” Bruce grinned, sensing Tony’s anticipation like they never even fought. The elevator doors opened promptly, which made Tony realize that JARVIS had likely been in on the joke. It didn’t make him feel much better, and Tony made a mental note to add some code later that would make JARVIS inform him of these things.

Getting back into the elevator and down to the lab was a hassle. His wings were flattened uncomfortably against his back, his tail tucked underneath his legs. Bruce had ended up taking the stairs because he failed to find room with Tony in the elevator. Tony had felt a bit guilty when Bruce smiled sheepishly, but was glad that he didn’t try to squeeze in.

Once they were both down in the lab, Tony could feel his heart pound with exuberance. He walked idly into the lab, expecting Bruce’s absence. It was still quite strange to walk on four legs, but Tony could admit that he was getting the hang of it.

Bruce entered the lab, his face already lit with ideas. Tony bounded over to him, unsure about how to express his curiosity over his appearance. The whole speaking barrier was going to be quite the trouble. He stood in front of Bruce and dropped to his haunches, ready to start a show that would hopefully present his ideas clearly.

Bruce watched Tony’s wild paw gestures with his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He brought his hands to his sides and shook his head, trying to make sense of Tony’s paws. “I’m sorry, Tony, but I don’t know what you’re trying to say.”

Tony huffed, viewing down at his stubby paws in irritation. How was he supposed to express his thoughts, especially when he couldn’t do any of the work himself? He stared at the sharp ends of his claws, narrowing his eyes as if he could perhaps transform them back with a glare. If only he could—

_Holy shit._

Tony raced over to a screen resting above a lab table, almost landing face first from his haste. He tapped on the glass, attitude brightening when JARVIS, his savior, caught on to what he was trying to do. JARVIS brought up a blank text sheet and a keyboard, Tony letting out a sigh of relief when the screen registered his claw taps.

_Hey, Bruce_, he typed, moving out of the way. Bruce read the text in an instant, a smile appearing on his face.

“Tony, you’re a genius!” he laughed, looking at the Tony and back to the screen.

Tony, in spite of having no idea how he looked, put on his best smirk. He deleted the previous text and added, _I know, Brucie Bear. But it’s nice that you agree_. His typing, albeit slow, was a great improvement to strange gestures.

Now that they had established a form of communication, Tony stated how he wanted to see what he looked like. Bruce was about to describe his appearance to him, but Tony shook his head pointed to the screen. JARVIS then activated a camera sitting above the screen and connected it to the device, attracting Tony’s attention.

Tony reeled back from the screen, flinching when the form in front of him did also. He couldn’t believe that what he was looking at was him now. His face was black like the rest of him, with muddy, brown eyes and a flattened head. The scales that lay atop his head glimmered in the light. If he squinted, he sort of looked like a lizard. He wasn’t very happy about it, though.

With all of his twitching, Tony noticed that he had a couple new flaps above his head. Now that he was aware of their presence, he realized that he could also control them, like the rest of the new muscles he’d discovered. With a startled jerk, he raised them off of his head before lowering them again. Then, he lifted just one at a time, turning to Bruce swiftly. _Can you believe this?_

“You’re honestly reacting better than I thought you would,” Bruce admitted with an awkward chuckle.

Tony snorted, wondering how Bruce could have such little faith in him. He swiveled back towards the screen and took a few steps back, regarding the rest of his body in awe. He bared his teeth, his wings rising off of his shoulders. _I might actually stand a chance against Captain Spangles now_. Tony liked that he had sort of a vicious look to him—when he had teeth, that was. He wasn’t exactly sure why they went away at first, but when Tony put enough focus into it, he suddenly realized that he could retract them again.

Both Bruce and Tony gaped at his empty mouth, wondering where all of his teeth went. He unsheathed them again, intrigued, clicking them together before drawing them back in once more. He repeated the cycle a few times, musing over what kind of muscles he needed in order to do that. _I am so pranking the team with this._

Pulling him from him trance, Bruce approached Tony. “I think that you look kind of like a dragon. You know, with the wings and tail and scales.” Tony blinked, then nodded his head in agreement. Well, it was better than being turned into a seal or some other animal. And at least Bruce didn’t think he looked like a lizard. He had to count the few eggs he had, here.

Tony didn’t have quite so many at the moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was very, very anxious about posting this. I’m not really sure if anyone will be interested, as it’s sort of a weird idea, so please let me know if you like it so far. Also, always feel free to point out any mistakes I make or give me some criticism! I always want to improve my writing whenever I can. Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

After the brief observation, Bruce was quick to change the subject.

“So, now that we’re past that, I think that we should take a blood sample first,” Bruce informed him, grabbing a syringe that Tony didn’t know was even on the table. Tony halted, giving the syringe a reluctant stare. Apprehension engulfed his chest until it reached unbearable pressure, causing him to unintentionally back away. He jerked when his tail knocked against a table.

Bruce sighed, but didn’t release the syringe. Tony, noticing the greater distance between them, abruptly stopped and stepped forwards again. He grudgingly set a leg out in front of him, giving Bruce access to his scales. However, when Bruce pushed the needle down on his leg, the needle seemed unable to pierce his scales.

Both Tony and Bruce watched the needle intently as it failed to breach his skin. Bruce held it back, eyeing the point of the needle with skepticism. Tony wrapped his tail around his paws, waiting for Bruce’s next move. He already had a few ideas about other ways to draw his blood, but none of them were pleasant, and he didn’t want to encourage Bruce. However, Bruce unfortunately already reached his own unpleasant solution.

“We’ll have to take blood from one of the softer parts of your body,” Bruce explained, crouching to get a look at Tony’s underbelly. _Uh, no._

Tony lowered his head, glaring at Bruce directly in the eyes and blocking his view. There was no way he was allowing Bruce to stick a needle into his stomach. Bruce returned the gesture, looking mildly irritated. “Come on, Tony, we don’t have time for this.”

Tony grumbled, begrudgingly raising his head just enough to give Bruce access to his neck. Bruce stuck the needle in between two scales, the attempt successful this time. Tony had to forcefully suppress a shiver, the urge to recoil quite strong. Tony let out a silent sigh of relief once Bruce pulled away, feeling like a pressure was released around his throat. Bruce, however, was oblivious, as he was too focused on thoughtfully regarding the syringe.

“JARVIS, get a test ready for this. This sample should be enough to get some significant results.”

“Yes, Dr. Banner,” JARVIS complied, readying the programs and equipment responsible for processing the sample.

Bruce headed over to a desk, grasping another object and sticking the syringe in it. Tony yawned, trotting over to Bruce and admiring his greater height. His tail trailed lazily behind him, reminding Tony to lift it off the ground when walking.

“This will likely take a bit,” Bruce said, turning to face Tony. “You can go back up and keep yourself busy. After all, you can’t exactly...” Bruce waved awkwardly to his form, “do much.”

_I’m aware,_ Tony thought, giving Bruce his best unimpressed look. He sniffed when Bruce shrugged, sticking out his tongue when a load of smells entered his nose. Metal, sweat, and burnt material was evident in the air. Bruce spotted his repulsed expression, confused. But as Tony made his way towards the elevator, he didn’t question it.

Once Tony was back to the main floor, he saw Clint and Natasha lying on the couch together, watching some action movie on the television. Natasha was the first to notice his presence, twisting around to confront him. From her amused expression, he knew that he looked ridiculous, with his wings ducked to exit the elevator and eyes wide and curious.

“Hey, Tony,” Clint greeted, giving the couch a pat. “Wanna join us?”

“Are you joking?” Tony growled, but of course, nobody understood. But to satisfy his own pride, he casually walked over to the couch and sat down, causing Clint to push himself into Natasha and earn himself a punch. Tony warbled with laughter as the couch cushion sank beneath him, his body taking up more than two thirds of the space.

“Dude, I wasn’t serious! Go sit on the floor or something.” He tried his best to shove Tony off of the couch, but Tony simply weighed too much. It was what he got for pulling a water gun on him.

Tony covered his face with a paw to hide his muffled laughter. However, his amusement came to an abrupt end when a snap sounded from below. He hurriedly hopped off of the couch, examining the two broken legs on his side of the furniture.

“Tony,” Natasha said dangerously, her tone dropping an octave. “Did you break the couch?”

Tony sat up, giving himself an innocent mask, rounding his eyes. Then, he pointed accusingly to Clint, who leaped off of the couch and sized up to Tony with clenched fists. “I did not! It was totally you!”

“Don’t put the blame on Barton,” Natasha ordered, getting between the two males. Even though Tony was much larger than he used to be, Natasha was still very intimidating and he found himself backing away. Then, he remembered that it was his tower and he could do whatever he wanted with his furniture. Defiantly, he stuck his tongue out at Natasha.

Natasha broke into a full sprint, launching herself and relentlessly latching around his neck, causing Tony to let out a startled choke. He fell back onto his haunches and clawed at Natasha, careful not to be too rough. Natasha flung herself onto his back, landing swift hits on his head. Tony yelped, shaking himself in order to dislodge her harsh grip. However, the attempt was fruitless, so he instead fell over and pressed both her and his back into the ground.

Natasha huffed, the air forcefully pushed from her lungs. Tony winced from the uncomfortable sensation of his wings being pressed to the floor, trying to shift to relieve the pressure. Clint ran over to the duo and yelled hysterically at Tony to get up, his hands flying through the air to express his alarm.

Tony moaned, rolling to his paws and allowing Natasha to breathe once more. She gave him the greatest warning glare that he’d ever seen. Tony found himself internally cowering despite himself. Outwardly, however, he was holding his head high and his chest puffed out. _Yeah, that’s right. You can’t bully me anymore. _

“Once this is all fixed, you will pay for that,” Natasha promised, voice as low as her focused glare.

Tony swung around, giving Clint a brief slap with his tail when he made a face at him. Clint gave a strangled hiss and held a hand to his cheek. Whoops. Tony still doubted his control over his strength. His steps faltered when his stomach suddenly ached with hunger, making Tony change directions and head towards the kitchen.

Tony was about to get a cup of coffee, but to his bewilderment, the trusty beverage didn’t sound near as good as usual. In fact, the thought of the flavor alone made Tony want to gag. He sniffed the coffee machine despondently before pulling away when the overpowering scent wafted up his nose. _Eugh, that smells awful. I swear, if Bruce switched the coffee flavors again..._

Sulkily, Tony turned towards the refrigerator in hope for better luck. Usually, he would go a few days without anything more than coffee and protein shakes, but he wouldn’t exactly be much help in the lab, so it wouldn’t hurt to get a snack.

Tony carefully pried the refrigerator doors open, his gaze scanning the food inside. Surprisingly, none of the food in there smelled too great either. He almost choked at the odor and was barely able to paw out a pre-made sandwich before slamming the door shut.

Tony stilled when he heard a creaking sound from the lopsided couch. Glancing around, he saw two questioning faces peeking over the tilted couch. He attempted to put on his notorious smirk and picked up the sandwich bag in his teeth, tossing it onto the countertop.

Tony’s ears perked up when he heard the elevator doors slide open. He could tell from the scent of sweat and exertion that it was Steve arriving from the gym after a workout. When Steve stepped out of the elevator, he paused to notice a strange detail in the living room. “What happened to the couch?”

Both spies, with some attitude, pointed towards Tony, who was only trying to open the plastic bag without tearing it into shreds. Steve made a silent _oh_ movement with his mouth, slowly approaching Tony.

“Do you need any help?” Steve offered, gesturing towards the bag. Tony, in spite of his ego and dignity, could only nod curtly and back away. He couldn’t believe that the couldn’t even get a damn bag open. He was going to have to be treated like some toddler now that needed help with _everything_, and it was pissing him off.

“There you go,” Steve smiled kindly, allowing Tony to access the sandwich.

Tony held back his growing anger, knowing that Steve only wanted to help. They were still going to have a chat about treating him like an adult. Tony gave the sandwich a sniff, hissing when it also had an unappealing odor. He pawed at the bread, trying to knock it off. The only thing that smelled decent was the measly slice of ham inside, which wasn’t very promising.

“Uh, Stark?” Steve questioned, clearly confused. Tony pointed at the ham, causing Steve’s eyes to widen in understanding. He took out the slice and peeled off the cheese, handing it to Tony.

Tony gripped the slice with his teeth and swallowed it in one gulp. He had been planning to chew the piece carefully, but his body apparently had other plans. After eating the ham, he realized that his hunger wasn’t even slightly appeased. However, Tony had enough of the eating attempt, so he only groaned and headed back towards the elevator. He needed some more lab time right now.

“Green Bean!” Tony chuffed, causing Bruce to jump in surprise.

“Oh, Tony,” Bruce breathed, pushing his glasses up his nose. “You startled me.”

Tony walked up to a screen, ready to type Bruce a message. _Guess what?_

“What?” Bruce asked, obviously not too interested in whatever Tony wanted to say.

_I think I’m a carnivore now,_ Tony replied.

“Well, I guess that makes sense,” Bruce admitted. “But I’ve got some info for you. The results are back”

Tony rumbled expectantly, telling Bruce to continue. Bruce coughed, swiveling towards the screens and holograms behind him.

“Looking back at the energy scans, it appears as though the energy that would have caused an explosion instead entered your body when you touched it,” Bruce explained, hands swiping across the screen as multiple graphs slid across it. “I’m not exactly sure why. It’s almost as if it was searching for a host to work itself into.”

“Ew. Did you have to say it like that?” Tony asked. He sighed dismissively when Bruce didn’t comprehend his speech. Taking it as his cue, Bruce continued.

“That leads me to your blood test results. They’re honestly astonishing, I’ve never seen anything like it before.” Bruce pulled up a series of data points and information on the screen. “It looks like scepter’s energy wrapped around your cells and attacked the DNA inside, like a virus. The energy signature inside your body has almost vanished, but your DNA has been greatly modified. It’s definitely no longer human.”

“Oh, really? I almost couldn’t tell,” Tony exclaimed sarcastically. Then, he typed, _Well, is it fixable or not?_

“Um, we’d have to create some sort of counter-energy or antivirus of sorts to reverse the effects. However, whatever the scepter did to you, it did it quite thoroughly, so I’m worried about how your body might react to any more changes,” Bruce elaborated, still not answering Tony’s question.

“So, we pretty much have to try to create something to make your cells human again. I’m just not sure if we have the technology to do that. After all, we’re dealing with magic here. It’s one of the most unpredictable things we’ve encountered, but we can try,” Bruce finished lamely, hoping for the best out of Tony’s reaction.

Tony scoffed, clawing at the floor. Fucking magic, always finding some new way to screw him over. Tony tried to ignore the way Bruce’s eyes softened with pity, and the way JARVIS attempted to speak to him from the ceiling. He then noticed that he was breathing quite rapidly and the air around him was beginning to feel immensely stifling.

When Bruce tried to comfort Tony with a touch to his quivering neck, Tony found himself snapping at him. Literally. He instantly felt guilty when Bruce pulled away, fear glistening in his eyes. Tony felt a bit shocked himself. He had no idea what had came over him. All that his mind told him was that Bruce was a threat, which definitely wasn’t right, especially since he could _smell_ the palpable fright radiating from Bruce.

“Sorry,” he grumbled, hoping that Bruce got the message. Bruce only nodded, going back to his work without a word.

Tony headed ashamedly to the elevator, head held low. He unsuccessfully tried to ignore the fear scent that lingered heavily in the air. Once inside, JARVIS was about to bring him back to the main floor when an idea entered the forefront of his mind.

When the elevator started moving, Tony shook his head to stop JARVIS from taking him back up. The elevator didn’t exactly have buttons, so he would have to use his best communication skills to get his message across.

When Tony mimicked the motion of lifting dumbbells—which he was sure looked incredibly stupid—JARVIS asked instantaneously, “Would you like to go the gym?”

Tony nodded, relieved that his AI was so intelligent. He didn’t know what he’d do without JARVIS, even with all of his snark and sarcasm.

“Very well, sir,” JARVIS said, putting the elevator back in motion. JARVIS knew better than to question his motives, to Tony’s delight. He would figure it out soon, anyways.

Squeezing himself out of the elevator, Tony made a mental note to make the machine larger. He was growing tired to fitting into and out of the frame, but he knew that the stairs would be no better. So, there was only one solution: bigger elevator. And getting transformed back into a person, of course, which would be ideal.

As Tony entered the gym, he began carefully pushing the devices inside against the walls, occasionally a little too hard. His increased strength was a great bonus to his situation. He knew that he’d have no chance at moving many of the bigger things, such as treadmills and punching bags, out of the way in his normal form. But then, he also wouldn’t have a reason to in his normal form.

The little thing about his human body was that it was worn. Beaten. Abused. Therefore, he was usually in some sort of pain at all times. Whether it be his back, or his chest, or his head after irresponsibly drinking a large amount of alcohol; he just always hurt. Now, he felt like he was young again. In fact, he felt better than he ever had before. Having a break from the pain was nice, but Tony would never admit it to the team.

Once the gym was cleared of all its mechanisms, Tony moved himself to the side closest to the elevator. One of the most noticeable additions of his new body lay on his back: the wings. And wings only served one purpose: to fly. So that was what Tony was going to do, or rather, teach himself to do. He didn’t really have anything better to do anyways, and he wanted to see the team’s face once he could fly _without_ the suit.

The ceiling of the gym wasn’t very high, but he only wanted to try gliding; a simple enough task. In theory. The gym was wide enough to fit his wingspan and long enough to give him a runway. Tony shifted his tail so that he could see the end of it, which fitted two fins on either side. He had noticed them previously, but didn’t give them much observation, as he had more important things to attend to. From what he’d gathered, they would help him fly.

Spreading them open, he angled them up and then back down again. He didn’t know what angle would be best for gliding, but he was about to figure it out. Straightening out his body, he angled his tail fins so that they ran parallel to the floor. Then, he spread his wings out beside him and blew into a sprint.

Running, he used his hind legs to push himself off of the floor. Tony then tried to balance the air under him, which he discovered was a lot more difficult than it appeared. He was only above the floor for a moment before he crashed back into the it, his scales rubbing against the material uncomfortably. _Thank god the team didn’t see that._

Pushing himself back up, Tony finished walking the rest of the way and flipped around, a little disconcerted. This time, though, he would try angling his tail fins upwards to see if that would help balancing in the air any better. He shot forward again, but just as he was about to launch himself up, the elevator doors opened. Tony screeched in surprise, trying to stop his momentum. However, as he was still unsure how to properly use his new body, the fruitless attempt resulted in another inadvertent crash into the ground.

Spluttering, Tony stood up to see who the hell wanted to see him right now. He wished that he could have ordered JARVIS to keep the team out, but the thought melted away when he saw Bruce standing in the doorway. _Good news, good news, please be good news..._

Bruce gawked at Tony, probably wondering why he was throwing himself into the floor. “Tony, what... nevermind.” He then perked up, seemingly remembering the purpose of seeking Tony out. “Those two Maximoff twins have been spotted again, just north of the Czech Republic capital. I just wanted to let you know. Fury said he’ll send more intel once he gets more information.”

“How wonderful,” Tony grumbled, peering down at his seemingly undamaged scales. Huh. He must be more durable now than he realized.

“I know this isn’t really the best time to ask, but... what should we tell Fury?” Bruce asked hesitantly, wincing as he did so.

When Tony gave him the, _Are you actually bothering me with this right now_ glare, Bruce drew a hand onto his forehead and sighed, although vehemently. “Yeah, I know, seriously not the best time. But he’s going to want to know why you aren’t out there with us on the field. We can’t give him the ‘oh, he’s just busy right now’ excuse again. It’s been five times now, so I’m sure he’s seriously suspecting something.”

“But I was actually busy then,” Tony whined, the sentence only sounding of low growls and guttural grunts to Bruce.

“Yes, I get it,” Bruce said, exasperated. “But we need to think of something, and soon. I’m sure it won’t be long before we’re called out there, and I’m _really_ loath to face an angry Fury.”

“He’s only mean on the outside,” Tony argued, tail thumping noisily on the floor. “He’s all soft and kittens on the inside. I bet you he likes to huddle up on his super spy couch and watch puppies chase each other around at night.”

Bruce, seemingly defeated and definitely lost, exhaled and moved back to the elevator. However, as JARVIS opened the doors, he flipped back around. “What are you doing down here anyways?”

Tony, having sat down, moved back onto his legs and hefted his wings up, spreading them wide. Then, he flapped them a couple times, albeit enough to disturb the lighter materials resting amongst the gym.

Bruce’s eyes brightened in comprehension, his mouth curving upwards. “That’s actually not a bad idea. However, I think I’ve got a better way of teaching you.” He then chuckled, the image of Tony crashing onto the floor likely recurring.

“Is that so,” Tony drawled, nudging Bruce into the elevator. “Then let’s see it. Seriously. Flying outside of the suit apparently isn’t my strong suit. Ha. Get it?”

“We really need to find a better way of communicating,” Bruce informed him. “Although I doubt what you’re saying is worth listening to anyways.”

Tony, who was about to let Bruce ride to the lab alone, suddenly crammed himself inside with relentless strength. Bruce yelped as he was unceremoniously crushed against the elevator wall, the sound muffled by Tony’s side. Tony, who was still very offended, indignantly released enough of the pressure to allow Bruce to breathe again.

When the doors opened again, Tony took his time to stroll out of the elevator. Bruce was hurriedly fixing his glasses, cheeks flushed. He fixated a glare on Tony, causing Tony to puff his chest out with confidence. He knew that it probably wasn’t the best decision to put a man with abnormal anger issues up against a wall, but Tony wasn’t exactly known for his self-preservation. Also, he had some trust in Bruce about keeping the Other Guy under control.

“I can’t believe you sometimes,” Bruce muttered, walking towards one of the lit holograms. “But now that we’re here, I want to do a scan over your body. We might be able to put it into a 3D simulation to see what’s the best way for you to interact with the air around you.”

After pulling out a scale from Bruce’s lab that Tony didn’t even know existed, they even found out that Tony roughly weighed just over 1,600 pounds, which was astonishing. Tony never felt so heavy before in his life, but he told Bruce that it was just all of his new muscle that he had acquired.

After some very lame, very boring scans and simulations, Tony discovered that angling his tail fins upwards was, in fact, the best position for gliding. He would have found that out himself if Bruce didn’t interrupt his flying lesson, but he also then wouldn’t have known how to do anything but glide.

“So if you want to gain altitude, it looks like flattening your tail fins and flapping your wings steadily would be the best way to do so. If your tail fins were aligned upwards, the air beneath you would grow unsteady and you’d crash,” Bruce described, running the simulation on a holographic screen.

Tony viewed the screen, mimicking the motions of the simulation precisely. Each position felt more innate than he’d like to admit, especially since he was human less than 24 hours ago.

“I’m sure if you had to fly for whatever reason, a lot of this would come naturally,” Bruce reassured after playing a few more movements.

The 3D scan was incredibly accurate and translated very well onto the simulation software Bruce and JARVIS managed to craft up in an insanely short amount of time. JARVIS calculated different wind speeds and situations, displaying them on the screen for Bruce to change the variables on. By the end of the lesson, Tony knew the best ways to increase and decrease altitude, glide, accelerate, decelerate, and change directions. He knew that experiencing flight would very likely be different than watching it, but at least he knew the basics.

As Tony practiced a few more times, still just standing, Bruce intervened. “If you’re ever out there and doing this for real, try thinking of the air like a liquid. Imagine that you’re floating on water rather than flying through the air, as that’s really all it is; balancing on a layer of material.”

“Yes, because swimming is so much like flying,” Tony said sarcastically. But honestly, Tony seriously appreciated Bruce helping him out so much. He didn’t like distracting him from trying to find a solution, but he did enjoy how Bruce was putting so much time into assisting him.

Tony walked up to Bruce, placing a paw on his shoulder. “You, sir, have been a great science bro. So, thanks, Brucie.”

“Uh, well, I’m assuming that whatever you said was nice and heartwarming,” Bruce said, his face warming with a grin.

Tony nodded happily, doing his best to clap with proud motions. However, the usual sound that followed a clap didn’t follow, and was instead replaced by a light pounding noise. Regardless, Bruce got the point and swiveled back to his work.

Tony’s gaze flickered to the floor as his stomach flared with hunger. It was so undeniably frustrating, having so much food within reach yet having all of it sound so repugnant. Just the simple memory of the scent had Tony’s nose wrinkling in revulsion.

Quite deliberately, Tony brushed Bruce’s back with his tail before reaching another holographic screen. He began typing, each poke at the screen pronounced with a loud tap. _Bruce, I have literally never been so hungry before. Ever._

“Then go eat something. The tower’s full of food; you make sure of that,” Bruce told him matter-of-factly. Tony scowled.

_Everything in that refrigerator smells like it was frozen with Steve, and everything outside of it makes me regret ever letting you buy coffee,_ Tony replied, still managing to sound blunt without any noise other than the resounding thuds of his claws.

“You tried to drink coffee?” Bruce asked, his tone hinting at disapproval.

“_That’s_ what you got from that!?” Tony bellowed, lurching forward and too full of blatant disbelief to bother typing. “You know what? I take it back. That stuff I said, about you being a good science bro. You’re failing me right now.”

“Okay, alright, fine. We’ll find something,” Bruce reassured him, sensing Tony’s disapproval. “Here, one second.”

Bruce turned back towards the screen, rapidly searching something on the computer. Without a moment to spare, the results popped up. Bruce squinted, clicking on the first option. An article with numerous pictures of differing foods appeared, drawing Tony’s attention. He scanned the pictures intently, not even bothering to give the non-meats a second glance. Then, finally, he spotted something that made his do a flip appetite of glee. At _last_.

“What is it?” Bruce queried, noticing the change in Tony’s demeanor.

Tony raised a paw, giving a sure point towards something he had never even thought of. A fish. God, it sounded so delicious, so appealing. Never before had a certain type of food seemed so appetizing, especially to him. He never even really liked fish before, which only made the decision more unusual. But it also explained why he found nothing tasty within the tower during his desperate search.

“Are you sure?” Bruce questioned. When Tony rapidly bobbed his head, Bruce snorted in amusement. “Alright, but we’ll have to place an order. It might take a few hours before it arrives.”

Tony nodded again, bouncing to his feet. He felt as though he couldn’t wait, but he would. Somehow, he would manage.

There was a few moments spent finding a company worthy of delivering fish to the tower. “Alright, we’ve got an order coming in a couple hours. It should hopefully last you a few days,” Bruce informed him after a few minutes.

Tony whined, pacing in circles. God, it seemed so far away. He probably should have let JARVIS place an order. JARVIS likely would have gotten it arriving quicker.

Just as Tony was about to settle down with Bruce, an alarm rang through the tower, deafeningly loud. Tony grunted, having to stifle a whimper from the sound. As JARVIS explained the situation at hand, Tony fell to the floor in a heap, covering his ear flaps with his paws. The wail of the sirens was leaving Tony feeling confused and disoriented, his eyes closed to avoid seeing in doubles. He couldn’t even pay attention to JARVIS’ words, let alone acknowledge them.

After a few more repetitions, the alarm shut off, Bruce already racing to the elevator. Tony flinched, blinking a few times to fight off the haze filling his vision. His ears rang and his head swam sickeningly, lengthening the climb to his paws. By the time Tony was beginning to feel alright again, Bruce was already gone. _Ookay, definitely no loud noises again. And no more sirens._

Tony groaned, stumbling to the holographic monitor. He waited for the harsh pounding in his head to go down before typing, _What’s the deal, JARVIS?_

“The Maximoff twins have been reported attacking one of your factories in Berlin, Sir,” JARVIS announced, which only worsened his easing nausea.

Ugh. Of course they would go after the Stark Industries factory in Berlin. It was one of the main SI manufacturing plants in Europe, and it was just so _pleasantly_ close to Sokovia. Tony was felt so deprecating for not seeing this coming and preparing for it sooner. After all, it wasn’t like he was occupied with anything at the moment. Nope. Nothing at all.

“They won’t get there in time,” Tony groaned unintelligibly, falling away from the screen. It was true. Even on maximum power, the quinjet couldn’t travel fast enough to get from New York to Berlin so shortly.

It ached to feel so worthless.


	3. Chapter 3

Tony staggered to the elevator, allowing JARVIS to take him to whatever floor he thought was optimal. When the doors opened to reveal the common floor, he dragged his way through them and collapsed next to the couch, chin resting on his forelimbs. The couch creaked when his back pressed against it. He eyed the broken piece of furniture longingly, wishing that he had bought couches strong enough to carry over a thousand pounds.

After some second thoughts, Tony also wished that he considered sending the Iron Man suit with the Avengers, but with JARVIS as the pilot. The media would notice his suit’s absence from the group. It would look strange, having the entirety of the Avengers defending his manufacturing facility and him, the previous CEO of the damn company, not being present.

Tony stared out the windows, watching as the daylight filtering through the glass darkened marginally. It would likely be nighttime in Berlin, which would only assist in masking the Maximoff twins’ escape. Damn HYDRA experiments and their incessant hunger for revenge.

Tony gave the floor a large, hopeless inhale, coughing when the dust particles inevitably wafted into his nose. He lifted his head higher as his choking worsened, spluttering and scratching desperately at his nose. _Why won’t this day just end?_

When the coughing didn’t relent, Tony pressed a paw to his chest, hoping to ease the irritation in his lungs. God, this was worse than having the arc reactor. He doubted that cough medicine would even work on his new form. And all because of a despondent sniff of dust—

Wait.

What the hell?

Tony ended his efforts to relax his lungs, instead focusing on a strange, foreign object lodged within his chest. He hadn’t noticed it before, but with all of the coughing, the thing that seemed to sit above his lungs made itself very apparent. Tony shifted it quizzically, gasping at the strange sensation of movement. It was like there was another muscle of sorts hidden below his neck, ominous and waiting.

Moving it again, Tony gained the odd instinct to take in a large breath of air. He inhaled deeply, the air filling whatever the thing was inside of him, his lungs seemingly blocked off. Suddenly, his chest was alit with heat, causing Tony to exhale vehemently in a stunned response. His teeth sheathed on their own accord, his mouth opening to expel a burst of flame. It collided with a nearby window, the glass shattering instantaneously and cracks slicing through the surrounding panes.

Tremulous fires extinguished themselves by pieces of glass, each shard shimmering in the melting daylight. Tony, having stood upright once again, surveyed the destruction with utter astonishment. He hesitantly shuffled towards the mess, the scent of burning and ash lingering in the air.

_I can’t believe I just did that,_ Tony thought dubiously, only mildly hysterical. _I’m actually a dragon now. I mean, literally. I’ve got the whole package._

“Would you like me to activate the sprinkling system, sir?” JARVIS asked, his tone subtly teasing. Not at all like his creator just shot a flame out of his mouth.

Tony shook his head fondly, questionably admiring the damage with what could be described as pride. That’s right; he wasn’t helpless without the suit anymore. He was a badass that could fly—theoretically, at least—and shoot fiery balls of destruction. Perhaps he could still be some use to the team after all, in this form.

About two hours had passed before the Avengers returned. JARVIS kept him informed about the situation, but unfortunately there wasn’t much information to go by. Apparently, the twins had set off some bombs in the facility and then took a run for it. How original. They had magic powers and all they did was blow things up. Nobody even died, although that was a relief.

When the Avengers finally arrived back at the tower, Tony could instantly feel their displeasure. Each of them looked worn and exhausted, their stances droopy and sullen. They also reeked of aggression and exhaustion. Tony crinkled his nose from the stench of it.

Tony ran up to greet the team, strangely awake despite the hour. However, the scent alone was enough to leave his excited steps faltering. By the time he made his way over to the team, his steps had slowed to a mere trot.

“They escaped,” Steve croaked, shoulders hunched. Tony winced from the thick wave of despair permeating from Steve’s form.

Tony bowed his head, disappointed although he’d already came to the conclusion. After all, the heavy scent of defeat hung in the air, undisguised. It was a bit hard to hide the truth from him then.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Clint suddenly exclaimed, examining the broken window with disbelief, his bow discarded on the couch. “What did you do?”

_Oh, right._ Instantly, Tony’s mood brightened. Trying his greatest to look innocent, Tony rounded his eyes when the rest of the team’s glares were fixated intently onto him. He moved towards the mess, his gaze lowering from the scrutiny. They were a harsh group of people.

Tony raised his head, mouth widening and teeth retracting promptly. Taking in a gasp of air, Tony filled the foreign muscle and ignited the gas within, sending a blast of flame out of the tower with a flash of light.

It was only a small one, as Tony didn’t inhale as much air, but the team’s reaction didn’t seem any lesser than his had been. Natasha lurched backwards, ramming into Clint’s chest. Steve stilled, his mouth amusingly agape. Bruce did absolutely nothing, which Tony believed was the most unusual response of all. He would have thought that Bruce was going to be the most interested in his newly acquired skill, but he only stared blankly at the hole left in the tower.

“Well, I’m going to bed,” Tony squawked, passing the team with ease, dismissing their astonished expressions. Tony grinned as JARVIS brought him to his bedroom floor, the image of the team startled wordless still fresh in his mind. Tomorrow, he would deal with the damage. All he wanted now was a good rest.

Tomorrow, they would proceed in their efforts to fix the mess Tony threw himself into.

* * *

Pepper was coming back this afternoon. Oh god, _Pepper was coming back this afternoon._ What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t hide in his bedroom, he couldn’t hide in the lab—Pepper knew all of his passcodes. She was going to see him and get all angry and hysterical and then _he_ was going to get all angry and hysterical, and ugh—it would just be awful.

Pacing around his bedroom, Tony tried to even his breathing, his tail knocking against every object it could latch itself on to. Tony groaned, giving the door a heated stare. He didn’t want Pepper to see him like this, not in the slightest. But even with JARVIS trying to text Pepper and tell her that it wasn’t a great time, she refused to respite. If anything, she only seemed to gain more suspicions and hurry her efforts along.

Tony paused his panicked pacing, running through of all the possible ways to avoid Pepper. None of them were ideal, but his time was rapidly declining. His ear flaps perked up when he heard footsteps outside his door.

“Stark? The food’s came. Bruce is cooking it now,” Steve called to him, sounding moderately awkward. Tony wasn’t exactly sure why, but chose not to question it, his mind too preoccupied with hunger to give it much thought.

Tony shoved the door open, causing Steve to emit a startled yelp. Without waiting for him, Tony crammed himself into the elevator with growing impatience. He was just so hungry. It felt like his stomach was being eaten up by a black hole, leaving nothing but an empty void behind.

When the doors opened up, the smell of food instantly carried itself into Tony’s nose, his mouth watering suddenly. He followed the scent into the kitchen, a pile of three salmon resting on the countertop, all cooked. A bag lay beside the pantry, likely containing more fish.

Bruce turned his way, holding a hand to his mouth to cover his laughter. Tony blinked, confused, but then realized that he probably had an amusing expression etched onto his face. Eyes wide, pupils expanded, ears up... yeah, he could understand Bruce’s mirth.

Slowly, almost cautiously, Tony approached the fish lying readily on the counter. He wasn’t exactly sure how he was supposed to eat them, which was actually pretty stupid now that they were literally within reach. He gave one of them a small, brief sniff before his hindbrain seemingly took control.

Before he even realized what he was doing, Tony unsheathed his teeth and grabbed one of the fish, lifting it up along with his head. Then, with his head and neck parallel to the walls, he swallowed the fish head first. In one gulp. Tony shivered. _Eugh_. He barely even got any flavor out of it.

Without waiting for a response from Bruce, who was still watching him, he repeated the action with the other two fish. It didn’t even take a whole ten seconds to eat them, and his hunger was only slightly appeased. Three entire fish, and he was _still hungry_.

Upset and disgruntled, Tony’s gaze darted to Bruce, who still seemed to be getting over the absence of the fish he’d likely spent quite some time cooking. Appalled, he spotted Tony’s desperate expression with a disbelieving realization. “You want _more_?”

Tony nodded quickly, eyeing the bag with intent hunger. He shuffled towards it and gave it a whiff, eyes widening when the raw fish actually smelled better than the cooked ones. He recoiled, suddenly overcome by the thought that this was actually his life right now. Him, transformed into a dragon-thing, eating fish and being bothersome. Oh, and also disturbing everybody that lived with him. Even though the team didn’t say it, he was pretty sure that they were disturbed. They just didn’t mention it because they were politer than him.

With the internal battle fought, Tony clawed the bag open, nosing his way into it. As Tony had his way with the fish inside, Bruce raised his hands to his head, unable to comprehend that all of his food supply was gone. Vanished. “Tony, that was supposed to last you a few days!“

Having finished, Tony elevated his head, swiping his tongue across his lips. He took in Bruce’s demeanor carefully, surprised that he was so upset about the situation. It wasn’t like they had a shortage of money to spend. They could just order more.

Bruce, apparently not understanding the concept of ordering more, just exhaled smoothly and headed back to the elevator, likely to go back down to the lab. Just as he spun around, he almost ran into Steve, who was looking around the kitchen with uncertainty.

“Where’d the fish go?” he asked, gaze landing on Tony.

Bruce pointed an accusing finger towards Tony, still facing away from him. Why, just blame Tony, because everything was always his fault. Tony scowled at him, but then exhaled amusedly when he spotted Steve’s astounded expression. “He ate _all of them_?” However, the question came too late, as Bruce was already gone.

Tony hummed, his needy stomach finally satisfied. He walked past Steve before he froze, suddenly remembering that he had a reason to be stressed. But instead of handling the stress like a healthy person, Tony decided to take note in the temporary repairs that somebody did to his window. If he could even call them repairs, that was. Somebody put _duct tape_ on his window. His window. Duct tape. How could someone show such blatant disrespect?

What Tony wanted to do was tear apart the tape and get a piece of cardboard or something to cover the hole. But Tony couldn’t do what he wanted to do anymore. So instead, he went back to his floor, where he decided to hide until Pepper left the tower.

Once he was back on his bed, Tony had JARVIS go over the events that happened the previous day. An attack on the Berlin Stark Industries factory. Security footage revealed the Maximoff twins. A bombing, but nobody was harmed. A fire had burned down any other evidence. And the worst part of all, the twins had vanished once again.

JARVIS also informed him that he’d received some messages from Fury. Fury wanted to know where the hell his ass was and where it would be if he didn’t hear back from him soon.

Just as predicted, the media commented strongly about his absence. None of it was decent, and Tony almost regretted telling, or typing, JARVIS to read him some of the titles. _Stark Industries Factory Bombing, Where Was Iron Man? Iron Man Absent During Attack on Stark Industries Factory._ One site even dared to claim that he no longer cared about his company, with Pepper being the new CEO.

Tony rumbled, not wanting to hear any more. JARVIS got the message, silencing himself. He let different scenarios play in his mind, thinking about how Pepper may react. She might yell at him. She might slap him. She might throw her shoe at him. The latter was the scariest of them all. But, she was likely to do all three, simultaneously. She had some scary abilities when it came to him.

Thinking about it wasn’t helping his anxiety, but he just couldn’t distract himself. He rolled on his bed, messing the covers up even more. His very expensive, very nice mattress didn’t feel very comfy anymore. It kind of made him sad, because Pepper chose it just for him. Oh wait, damnit. He wasn’t supposed to think about her.

Tony stared intently at his leg. He wasn’t really sure why; he just felt like admiring himself. The scales covering his leg were sleek, smooth, built to be aerodynamic and disguised. However, they didn’t seem as shiny as they did before. In fact, it appeared as though a layer of something, dust or whatever, had formed, dulling their former glimmer. Tony had the sudden urge to lick it. He even stuck his tongue out, about to do just that before he abruptly stopped himself.

Ew, ew, what, why the hell, why would he do that? His new instincts were awful, Tony realized, demanding him to do things that nobody should ever do. He wondered if this was what a cat felt like, this strange scratchy feeling that made him want to glide his tongue over the scales. Ugh, again, ew.

“Pepper has arrived at the tower, sir. She is exiting her vehicle now,” JARVIS said. He almost sounded pitiful. Even he knew that terrible chaos was about to occur.

Tony whined, breathing shallower, trying to think of anything to get him out of this. Steve would probably keep her away physically if Tony begged him, but he didn’t want Steve to get a shoe thrown at him. Her heels were really, really sharp. Plus, he figured that Pepper would find some other way to reach him. She had inhuman amounts of determination.

Tony lay down quietly, waiting to hear the elevator rise, the doors open, the frightening shoes thump down the hallway. His approaching doom. He was seriously thankful for his ability to hear so well, even though it really didn’t change much for his current situation. His limbs felt as though they were filled with a heavy liquid that was solidifying in his veins. This was going to go so, so horribly wrong.

He heard it. The sliding of the elevator, the ding of its arrival. He couldn’t breathe. Maybe if he was quiet enough, she would leave. The footsteps sounded rapid, hurried. They fell in sync with Tony’s racing heartbeat.

“Tony, can I come in?”

That was strange. As far as Tony knew, Pepper didn’t sound like Bruce. Or, maybe, it was Bruce, and he was just waiting for Pepper to arrive. Or, maybe Pepper recorded Bruce’s voice so that he would think it was Bruce and then he would let him in and it would actually be Pepper and her _shoes_—

The door was pushed open. It wasn’t exactly latched, because, well... doorknobs. Or, the lack thereof. But light was let in, a figure was visible, and—

Bruce. It was Bruce. Not Pepper. Oh, thank god it was Bruce. He looked concerned, eyes wide and fingers clasped together tightly. He was tense. Tony could tell because his shoulders were hunched forward and his brow was furrowed.

“Pepper’s here,” Bruce told him, like he didn’t already know. He sounded nervous, too. “Steve and Clint are trying to distract her while Natasha prepares a quinjet. We’re going to get you out of here. It’ll be best if Pepper doesn’t see this.”

Tony gaped, a little astonished, but mainly startled. But it was the good kind of startled, like the warm, fuzzy feeling you get when you open the fridge and see a piece of pizza you didn’t know was there. There was nothing like it.

They really did care for him. The team, that was. It was really heartwarming. Tony would properly thank them later, but Bruce was obviously a little on edge and wanted to leave soon. Pepper was a strong spirit, which was good when running a company, but not when you were trying to escape her wrath. Not even Steve could keep her at bay for long.

Tony sprung off of the bed, scurrying over to the door where Bruce was impatiently tapping his foot. They both raced to the elevator, unfortunately having to fit themselves in at the same time. JARVIS brought them upward, which Tony realized was smart, because then he wouldn’t have to try to get past Pepper. Oh, he definitely owed her an apology after this was over.

The machine dinged, letting them know that they reached the roof. The doors slid open to reveal a quinjet, powered on and ready to leave. Tony shot to the entrance, squeezing in with Bruce quick in pursuit. Luckily, the ramp had already descended. Natasha twisted around to give him a wave, which Tony returned gratefully.

The doors sealed and the quinjet lifted off of the ground. Tony realized that he had no idea where they were going. Natasha shifted the quinjet so that it faced North before launching it into action, a roar from the engines following. Avengers Tower flew past them, its silhouette shrinking with each passing second. He wondered if Natasha was going to dump him in some Canadian forest, to get him back for the couch. And lying on her. But mostly the couch.

“We’re heading to a deserted airport in Maine,” Natasha explained, her hands guiding the quinjet with trained motions. Her gaze remained pointed strictly ahead. “We’ll stay there until Pepper leaves. Which, may be awhile.”

Tony snorted, amused. Natasha would know of Pepper’s attitude, especially after acting as her assistant. They were really doing a lot to help him. But, he knew it was probably more for Pepper than for him. Nobody wanted to see a stricken Pepper. Still, though. It was the thought that counted.

Tony eyed the quinjet’s surroundings from the front window, blinking at the clouds that dotted the sky. The sun was glimmering brilliantly above them, causing reflections from the ground to mirror up towards the quinjet. Tony was forced to squint to look down, but when he did, he was seriously astounded by his skill to see each and every detail. It was like he was seeing from a high quality camera, with the ability to spot every feature of absolutely everything. He relished the sight.

A snicker sounded from the cockpit, stealing Tony from the moment. His ears perked up, his head whirling around to see Bruce covering his mouth with a hand. Tony shot him an unamused glare before returning to his view.

Some time later, when the sun was beginning to dip into the West, they arrived at the airport. From high altitude, it all looked normal other than the distinct lack of airplanes. But up close, it was obvious that the runway wasn’t in great shape. Cracks ran through the concrete like veins, some having grown into full blown potholes. A multitude of plant life sprang from the openings, flourishing despite the conditions.

Luckily, the quinjet required no runway to land. It simply descended carefully before hitting the ground, the telltale thump barely noticeable due to the shock absorbers Tony had recently implemented. A wonderful idea, if he could say so himself.

Natasha pulled away from the controls, twisting around with her hands placed calmly on her lap. Her expression contrasted her demeanor, with her mouth thinned grimly. Tony figured it was because of the lack of news being delivered by Steve and Clint. If they hadn’t called by now, something surely wasn’t going right.

They all sat there for a few moments, waiting for each other to make the first move. Tony initiated a silent staring contest, but when both of his competitors blinked, it became apparent that they hadn’t caught on to his game. So instead, he glanced back out the window, eyeing the line of trees in the distance. Tony then realized that he really, really wanted to explore. This was boring and he wanted to get out.

Tony strutted over to the controls, lightly pushing on the button that corresponded with door operations. The door then whirred to life, opening to reveal the great outdoors. The action was followed by the ramp lowering, barely tapping the ground.

“Woah, Tony, what are you doing?” Bruce suddenly asked, appearing noticeably worried. Tony paused, then mimicking his intent by walking in place, followed by a point towards the trees. Bruce was momentarily puzzled before Natasha informed him that he wanted to walk. She was always so smart. But in a calculating, judgmental way.

Bruce peered out the door, likely searching for company. When he confirmed they were alone, he nodded. “Alright. But I’m going with you. I don’t want you setting the forest on fire.”

Tony huffed, making his way out of the quinjet before Bruce. Well, if he wanted to explore with him, he’d have to keep up. Tony waited before Bruce was on the runway with him before breaking into a sprint to the trees.

“Tony!” Bruce yelled, exasperated. Tony looked back tauntingly, panting as Bruce’s figure shrunk behind him.

Tony warbled, slowing his pace once the trees neared. Along most of the runway was open field. This side, however, had a dense cluster of trees. Beneath their leaves rested many different species of plants, all covered by the trees’ deep shadows. He sniffed the air, taking in the many different scents accompanying the nature. He hadn’t been out in the wilderness for quite awhile, especially after moving into the tower. The difference was refreshing.

Straightening himself, he shoved his way through the underbrush and through the trees. Tony flicked his tail when he heard Bruce shout behind him, but he didn’t really care. If Bruce cared enough, he should be able to catch up to him. That was his fault, not Tony’s.

He stumbled amongst the plants, clumsy and a bit disoriented. The ground felt so soft and cushy after the hard concrete. Not even carpet compared to this. The air smelled so fresh, too. Although it was a bit odd, Tony could admit that the air seemed tastier than ever before. He was stunned by the cleanliness that wrapped itself around the trees, permeating the growth. Tony couldn’t get enough of it.

Speeding up to a mild trot, Tony explored the looming expanse of trees and forest. Sticks and leaves crackled beneath him. Light was barely able to filter in from above, but Tony could still see as though the leaves weren’t even there. Birds squawked above him, and a strange twinge stung his chest. He looked up, feeling a distinct longing as he watched the birds flee to the sky.

Tony wanted to be up there, too, he realized. He absolutely yearned for it. Perhaps it was instinctual, but Tony felt trapped on the ground. It was as if the trunks surrounding him were creeping steadily nearer, closing in, and the only way to escape was to _fly._ The trees no longer felt so secure, now. He flipped around as if rushed, desiring to head back.

A small figure became visible ahead, fighting the twigs and leaves poking out in all directions. It was his fun, probably a little green, science buddy. Unlike Bruce, Tony was able to slide through the leaves and sticks with relative ease, with anything sticking outwards slipping down his scales like water. He had to keep his wings pressed tightly to his back, though. Bruce, on the other hand, was still struggling, but froze when he spotted Tony.

“Where were you?” Bruce exhaled, tugging backwards in an attempt to free himself.

Tony drew a paw to his head, pulling on an exasperated look. He moved forward and helped nudge Bruce free, making his way forward until they were both out in the open once more. His head felt so much clearer out in the open.

That was when Tony got an idea. He peered down the runway, then in the other direction, and shifted his wings. Bruce wouldn’t even look at him, which wasn’t very promising, but he always took things too seriously. He’d get over it. Tony sprung ahead of him, flapping his wings up and down and running in place.

Bruce didn’t even blink. He was awfully unamused, but still sighed and begrudgingly followed Tony to the left end of the runway.

“Don’t frown so much, Brucie,” Tony mocked. “You’ll hurt that beautiful smile of yours.”

No reply. Not unexpected, though. Once they reached the end, Tony skipped a few paces back, lowering his head. He wiggled his hindquarters, spreading open his wings, as well as his tail fins. Bruce didn’t seem to want to offer any advice, so Tony went over what they had reviewed in his head.

_Tail fins point upwards to glide. Keep wings wide open. Use back legs to launch. Remain parallel to ground unless changing altitude._

He breathed. Tensing his muscles one last time, Tony threw himself into a sprint. He came dangerously close to stumbling a few times, bringing on a crushing wave of doubt, but managed to regain his balance. Wind whistled by his head, although it didn’t sting his eyes. Tony was sure he was running pretty damn fast.

This was it. Bunching his muscles, Tony slammed his wings down with as much force as he could muster. At once, he was in the air. He gradually tilted to one side, so he angled his tail fins to correct his glide, mostly by instinct. For a single moment, he was actually gliding in the air. Tony laughed inwardly.

Tony started tilting again, but much sharper this time. He overcorrected it during his last try, he realized. And now it was going to cost him his flight.

Tony tried to correct the imbalance again, but this time, the weight difference was too severe. His effort was fruitless. The air beneath him trembled, swinging him to the right. Tony let out a shrill screech as he was flipped upside down, shutting his eyes. Tony’s bearings were entirely lost. He side collided with the ground, skidding harshly against the rough concrete.

Tony groaned, his surroundings rattling wildly inside his skull. It was obvious he needed more practice, but the thought didn’t help quell the jarring sensation of burning on his shoulder. Footsteps were nearing, but they seemed so far away. God, he needed a drink.

“Tony? Tony, are you alright?”

Was he alright? He didn’t know. He couldn’t seem to think past the throbbing in his head. Still, Tony raised himself up with his forelegs, lifting his head to catch Bruce’s eyes. Bruce seemed a bit worried, but definitely not as immensely concerned as he should be. Did that man have any sympathy?

Tony hissed, rising to his paws. He shook himself, trying to shake off the rocks that buried themselves in his scales. He kinked his neck back, attempting to catch a glimpse of his right side. How could this be so much worse than the gym incident?

“Let’s go back to the quinjet. I’m sure we can begin heading back now,” Bruce said.

He was right. Night was nearing, and although Tony wasn’t that bothered by it, he knew Natasha would rather not fly at night. Tony, though, almost felt thrilled whenever night struck. He was almost, _almost_, sure he was nocturnal. Like the scales didn’t give it away enough.

Jesus. What had his life become, if these were the kind of thoughts he was having now?

* * *

The walk back to the quinjet had been uneventful. Tony’s shoulder hurt, but he hadn’t exactly limped. Once they got there, Natasha told them that Steve had called, and Pepper had left, albeit angrily. Tony had felt instant relief after that statement. He’d been worried that she would’ve tried staying all night.

The flight back to the tower was about as eventful as the walk to the quinjet. The view, however, was quite spectacular. He could never see so clearly in the dark before. It was almost as if Tony stepped into a new dimension. Well, maybe not dimension. But things sure looked cooler.

As Tony perked up, his other two teammates’ energy levels seemed to dip lower and lower each minute. Their heads were tilting, shoulders slouching, and everything else. Tony would watch Natasha to reassure himself that she wasn’t falling asleep, although he was sure that she was trained to not do exactly that.

When the tower emerged on the horizon, Tony let out a quiet exhale. Even though he wasn’t too tired mentally, his body ached and wanted nothing more than to rest. So when they landed and the doors opened to reveal the tower entrance, Tony rushed ahead so quickly he almost toppled Bruce over.

Rushing, he soon realized, was a grave mistake. His shoulder’s dull aching burst aflame, causing him to sway helplessly. He wheezed, hissing, trying to battle off the pain. There was chatter drawing closer behind him. Tony quivered, staggering to the elevator, wanting to avoid Bruce seeing him like this. Luckily, JARVIS didn’t hesitate on bringing him up to his floor.

Tony exhaled shakily, dragging himself back into his dark, stuffy room. He was exhausted. His bones felt heavy, his limbs thick like honey. And worst of all? He had that stupid urge to lick his shoulder again.

Dogs licked wounds, not Tony. Cats licked wounds, not engineers. Tony wouldn’t do it. He refused. But still, there was some odd, sour stench coming from the injury. Tony grimaced when he got a whiff of it, that cursed urge of licking getting stronger.

Tony narrowed his eyes at the wound, slowly bringing his head closer to it. He would never be able to fall asleep with this itching, stinging pain on his shoulder. Reluctantly, Tony ran a careful tongue across the surface of his scales.

He honestly expected it to hurt even more, but to his surprise, the feeling was almost soothing. Tony continued the motion, awed when the pain finally began to ease, the burn becoming less prominent. It tasted a bit sour, but he soon didn’t care. He repeated the action a few more times before quickly pulling away, scrunching his face in disgust.

“What is wrong with me?” Tony grumbled hopelessly, burrowing his head in his paws. JARVIS seemed to figure that Tony needed no response, so he remained silent. Tony inhaled deeply, trying to lull himself to sleep. He was just so tired.

God, he needed a break.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whaAt? An update?!

Tony awoke to the sound of footsteps outside his door. Begrudgingly, he peeled his eyelids back, blinking a few times to remove the blurry film over his vision. The footsteps were growing louder until they stopped right outside his door. Tony raised his head, ear flaps perking, expecting it to be Bruce. Maybe he’d found some cure overnight, or perhaps—

“Stark?” Eugh, it was Steve. He really didn’t want to see Steve right now.

Tony rumbled. He could see Steve’s shadow shift from under the door before it was pushed open. Someone had been thoughtful enough to clean the remains of the door handle. Tony bet it was Bruce.

“We’re all meeting downstairs for breakfast. Natasha thought it would be kind to invite you,” Steve explained.

Tony sniffed the air, barely catching a hint of eggs off of Steve. Then he nodded, stepping off of the bed and ignoring how messy it had become. It was really starting to look like a dragon’s nest in there. He inwardly flinched at the irony.

Steve returned the nod, but didn’t smile. Obviously, he didn’t really care whether Tony followed or not. Luckily for him, the feeling was reciprocated. While the two team members didn’t exactly argue, they weren’t best buddies either.

The ride downstairs was tense. Steve barely acknowledged Tony, but Tony knew it must be awkward for him. Things like this likely hadn’t occurred much in the nineties. Tony still wished he would make more of an effort, though. The team, or at least Natasha, probably felt the same, considering it was Steve who was sent up and not any of them.

After the uncomfortably confined ride was over, the two made their way to the table. There were lots of eggs and pancakes and bacon. Tony wasn’t sure who exactly cooked what, but it looked like a team effort. He wondered if it was to help cheer him up. Tony didn’t understand why they would try, as he couldn’t even eat any of it. Except maybe the bacon.

“Hey, Tony,” Bruce greeted. “Your food arrived last night. I thought we could have some team bonding time this morning.”

Tony snickered. Nobody looked that happy to be there, with Clint slumped over with droopy eyes and Steve constantly glancing out the window. Natasha was as unreadable as always, but at least she was hiding her dissatisfaction.

It was when Tony was examining the team when he realized something. He hadn’t felt any shoulder pain since he’d woken up. He quickly turned his head, observing the wound, judging and skeptical. It was still there, but didn’t look near as angry and inflamed as it had the previous night. Some scales seemed cracked and flaky, but new ones were already appearing to replace them. Perhaps dragon spit had some sort of healing, numbing qualities to it. That would be pretty cool. But mainly gross.

Tony’s thoughts then drifted to the fish. He hadn’t been that hungry ever since the first eating event, shenanigan, or whatever the team wanted to call it. He also hadn’t been very thirsty. In fact, he couldn’t recall ever drinking any water at all. So, either dragons needed very little of it, or none at all.

Tony could admit, that was pretty cool.

He stepped forwards when a specific memory became present in his mind. Pepper. How had she reacted to his absence. He was sure she had to have been angry. She never liked it when Tony avoided him.

“Hey, Steve,” Tony chirped. Then, he proceeded to move his paws in a pattern that he thought resembled his curiosity. He tried to flow them down like hair and put one beside the other to mimic eyes. He truly hoped it would work. He knew it probably wouldn’t.

Everybody stared at him, clueless. Clint sniggered, stifling his laughter with a palm. Tony’s shoulders sunk. Whatever. It was probably best if he didn’t figure out how she’d reacted. He might feel bad.

Stepping forward, Tony watched as Bruce pulled a tray out from the oven, deciding to ignore Tony. Tony found his mouth full of saliva when he sniffed the air. The tip of his tail flicked in excitement as he licked his lips. Jesus, nothing had ever smelled this good before. Ever. Except maybe when he first smelled the fish. Tony believed nothing would ever beat that.

Bruce placed the tray on the countertop, three cooked fish resting upon it. Tony nosed his way over, his shoulder knocking on a stool. Bruce stepped in front of Tony, blocking his view. Tony scowled at him menacingly.

“Don’t gulp it all down at once,” Bruce pleaded. “This is supposed to be team bonding time. We thought it might help us get along together if we spend more time doing things like this.”

If Tony could, he would’ve raised an eyebrow. They already had movie night and usually ate at least one meal together. Wasn’t that enough? And plus, he could gulp it all down and just stay. It wasn’t like he had anything better to do. Despite all of those reasons, Tony nodded, agreeing. He couldn’t really argue his case right now, anyways.

Bruce smiled, but it was stiff. They all moved over to the table, where everyone sat down on a chair except for Tony. Instead, he relaxed back on his haunches and watched fixedly as Bruce set the tray down in front of him. He could hardly wait.

Tony barely acknowledged the murmur that filled the room when everyone fell into calm conversation. It took all of his might not to swallow all three fish right then and there. He had no idea why he was suddenly having such an issue with food. He‘d been able to easily turn down food in the past, even if he did like it. But now, he felt like a starved animal, with drool slipping from his lips and onto the plate. It was honestly disgusting.

Steve, of course, had to take notice in this. His demeanor tensed and he whispered to Clint, who laughed quietly next to him. Bruce stilled before eyeing Tony. His mouth thinned into a line, his shoulders moving back. Woah, he must really look insane.

“Just ignore him,” Bruce whispered faintly into Steve’s ear. Tony blinked, narrowing his eyes. Bruce probably didn’t know how much better he could hear now.

Tony could only hold his position for so long before his resolve slipped. With utmost care, Tony lowered his head and bit onto one of the fish. Then, he tried very, very hard to just nip a bite off and chew it. Seriously, he couldn’t believe how hard he tried. It was like his body refused to let him just take a little nibble like a normal person.

Instead of ripping off a single piece like intended, Tony finally grabbed ahold of the entire fish before throwing his head up, swallowing the thing whole. He almost gagged. Why did the new him have to be so revolting?

Tony shifted awkwardly when the room collapsed into silence. Then, once they realized how not polite it was to stare, they slowly eased themselves back into conversation. Tony felt himself sink in embarrassment. They were probably just as amazed and disturbed as he was right now.

Then, of course, Clint had to pull another of what Tony called a Barton Move. He grasped a piece of bacon that was lying on his plate with his teeth before tossing it in the air. He kept his head raised as it landed in his mouth. Then, he started choking, just like he deserved. He gripped his neck as he coughed, seemingly unable to swallow things like Tony, even if they weren’t even near as big.

Tony warbled, thoroughly amused. That was what he got for making fun of him like that. Tony straightened himself as Clint finally cleared his throat, his voice hoarse. “That wasn’t what I wanted to happen.”

Tony sneered as Natasha thwacked Barton on the head. Clint broke into another coughing fit, his chest heaving. Then, as he was recovering, Tony decided to finish his meal, completely disregarding Bruce’s desires. He wasn’t going to spend time with the team if they were just going to tease him. Or at least Clint.

When Bruce noticed, he didn’t even seem mad. Instead, he stared as Tony apologetically. Tony glared back. Bruce sniffed before putting his attention back on Clint, who was finally beginning to eat again. Normally, this time.

After everyone settled back down, Tony stood up, heading elsewhere to entertain himself. He actually didn’t really mind spending time with the team. He mainly just wanted to do leave out of spite, because he was so mature.

As he turned away, Steve’s phone released a beep. Alarmed, Steve quickly picked up the device, trying desperately to unlock it. Steve hadn’t wanted a smartphone, but Fury said it was necessary and demanded he get one. He’d given in to Fury’s wishes, but he still didn’t know shit about using it.

“It’s Fury,” Steve explained. Hah. Looked like Tony had premonition powers, too.

“What does eyepatch want now?” Clint groaned.

Steve looked grave. “He says the Maximoff twins have made it into the country.”

The table sank into silence. Tony felt an icy chill creep through him, enveloping his chest and stomach. How in hell did they make it over? Did they have some kind of fucking all-powerful contact?

“Where are they?” Bruce croaked.

“They were last spotted in Baltimore,” Steve replied after reviewing the message again.

“Why didn’t he call?” Clint exclaimed. He didn’t even sound sarcastic.

Steve shrugged. Meanwhile, Tony stood still, taking the information in. Slowly, he made his way to the elevator. He didn’t know what to do. It wasn’t like he was any help to the team. Tony lowered his head as the hopeless weight of uselessness was made present again. If the twins were to attack, it would be up to everyone else to save everyone.

To Tony’s surprise, JARVIS brought him to the gym again. That wasn’t what he wanted. JARVIS probably wanted him to try flying again. Tony growled in disapproval, earnestly urging JARVIS to take him back to his floor. He’d been spending quite a lot of time holed up in his room. It was likely why JARVIS wanted him to move around again.

There was a silent pause before the elevator doors glided closed and he was lifted again. Tony knew that JARVIS wanted to argue with him, but thankfully acknowledged that now was not the time to fight with Tony.

Tony was startled to not see a carpeted hallway, but instead a lab when the doors opened again. Tony narrowed his eyes, unconsciously thrashing his tail against the elevator walls. He inhaled deeply, trying to calm himself before nonchalantly making his way inside. He wouldn’t let JARVIS see how discontent he was.

Bruce hadn’t come back down yet, so the lab sat quietly. His bots were powered off at their charging stations. It was likely JARVIS’ doing, as he recognized the threat of Tony’s clumsiness. And besides, it wasn’t like the bots would know it was him.

Tony headed toward the work station, examining Bruce’s work. A few vials were containing a liquid that was tainted red, while others held a clear substance. Tony sniffed the vials, grimacing when the strong stench of iron permeated the air around them.

While backing off, Tony inadvertently tipped over the chair behind him. He flinched when it clattered to the ground. He had some serious work to do when it came to handling his body, bulk, or whatever else it should be called.

Tony paced around, staring longingly at projects he’d been working on. There was absolutely no way he could work on anything now, so he was left to gazing yearningly at everything. Tony hoped, mainly out of spite, that JARVIS saw the jagged dip in his morale.

While observing some papers left behind from the scepter project, Tony’s breath caught in his lungs. He hadn’t been back to Bruce’s lab ever since he’d made his rapid exit. He wasn’t sure what damage he’d left discarded in the lab. It mustn’t have been good if Bruce was doing his research in Tony’s lab rather than his own.

Traipsing to the elevator, Tony looked upward hurriedly and pointed to the lab floor. Then, he pointed to where Bruce’s station was. There was a lingering moment before a response was heard.

“Would you like to go to Banner’s lab, sir?”

_Yes, yes yes._ Tony nodded frantically, springing into the elevator. JARVIS obliged. About ten seconds passed before he was let out onto the same chilled floor he’d been lying on hours before.

At first, not much seemed out of the ordinary. It wasn’t until he approached the main section did the areas under disrepair make themselves present.

Papers and glass lay scattered across the ground. Screens and walls were torn open with some holes large enough for Tony to fit his head through. Tables were flipped and broken while vials leaked their insides onto the floor. Tony felt ashamed.

Wearily, he stalked forward. He saw his ripped clothes lying on the ground, untouched ever since the transformation. He was sure the team had been at least a little sore from this. They had to have been thrown roughly onto the floor if not sliced with the scattered glass shards. He couldn’t fathom the idea that he hadn’t noticed the disaster after his reawakening.

Tony sniffed the air, no unusual smells present. He’d have to repair Bruce’s lab as soon as possible. He was lucky his paws were covered in armored scales, as he was positive his human feet would’ve been covered in tiny slivers by now.

Tony felt strange, standing in the spot where he was last human. The spot where he’d last been fighting with the team, unaware of the future consequences. He wished he could reverse time and do it all over again. It wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling.

Seeing enough, Tony turned away from the minor upheaval, pained by the scene. His head drooped in despair. He wasn’t sure how he’d apologize to Bruce, or why Bruce even continued helping him. He would’ve been beyond pissed if Bruce did this to his lab. He likely wouldn’t have talked to him for weeks.

JARVIS didn’t hesitate to carry Tony back to his room. His head felt cloudy, his thoughts distant as he nudged the door to his room shut again. He wondered if Thor would be back soon. He wondered if Asgard would be smarter with the scepter than he had been. Albeit, he figured Asgardians would be much more pleased with his current arrangement than he was.

Tony looked at the bed, uninterested in lying down again. Instead, he walked to the bathroom, dreadfully lifting his paws to turn the knob. He delicately closed them around the metal, carefully twisting it. Tony sagged in relief when the door clicked open rather than cracking open with a lost doorknob.

Tony had to tense his legs to keep him from rearing. He inclined his head upward, wincing when he his gaze was met with the same unusual black creature. He hated the unfamiliarity of his head, the reminder that this was really happening to him. He wasn’t sure why he was doing this to himself. Maybe he needed a reality check.

Tony lingered before pulling away, disgusted. He jumped atop his messy bed and hid himself in the covers. He desperately needed a break. It was barely the afternoon, but Tony was already so tired. It wouldn’t hurt anyone to just sleep a bit longer.

* * *

Knocking reverberated from the door, yanking Tony from his rest. “Tony, what are you doing in there? You’ve been in your room for hours!”

_Have I really?_ Tony thought groggily. He didn’t think it’d been that long. Yet when he looked up to check his clock, his eyes widened in surprise. It was nearly six o’clock. He’d slept for almost eight hours. He usually never slept that long, especially during the day.

Tony only had time to ponder briefly before Bruce pushed his door open. He didn’t do it in a hurried or violent way, but Tony was still unsuspecting, easily startled. Bruce looked near panicked, with his hair ruffled and breathing heavy. Tony stepped slowly down from the bed and watched him expectantly.

“Fury called,” Bruce alerted him. “He says he thinks the twins are heading over to the SI headquarters. He wanted me to tell you to get your lazy self up and moving. He wants you prepared.”

Tony stood up straighter, alarmed. He felt his demeanor shift slightly, his hackles lifting and wings tensing. His body was ready to fight. He couldn’t let the Maximoff twins get to the headquarters, but he also couldn’t risk letting himself be seen. It would be a catastrophe. He needed to stay inside, lest he would be spotted. Who knew what would happen then.

Both Tony and Bruce remained in place, both unsure how to move forward. Tony knew that if he didn’t show up again, the helicarrier would probably be at his window with missiles pointed to his bedroom. He had to force himself to keep his breathing steady, as his lungs were reluctant to take in any air. It really sucked that the transformation didn’t fix his damn anxiety.

Bruce waved him out the door, speeding out. His posture seemed to waver with discomfort, his fists clenching until his knuckles were bleached white. Tony could almost admit that Bruce seemed more anxious than him. Tony squeezed out the doorway, pursuing Bruce’s quaking form.

Once they reached the main floor, Tony peered out the windows to see a setting sun drooping into the horizon. Soon, it would be dark and scouring for the twins would be onerous.

The Avengers were clustered around the tilted couch, heads low and voices quieted to a mere murmur. They silenced when Bruce and Tony arrived, their gazes fixated solemnly onto them. Tony felt uneasy at their intensity.

“We’re going to try and track them,” Steve said tersely. His expression was as firm as his demeanor. Tony nodded.

“What, and you want me to come with you?” he asked sarcastically. Unbeknownst to Tony, that was exactly what they wanted.

“We want you to come,” Natasha stated steadily. “We want to explain to Fury what happened. He’ll understand.”

“You’re kidding,” Tony growled. They had to have had a drinking party while he was sleeping, as there was no way they were serious. “His little spy heart will croak if he finds out.”

There was no laughter. Nobody knew what he said. Tony felt his heart stammer as his worry tumbled up a notch. He couldn’t let Fury find out. It wasn’t that he was worried for his pride, or his dignity—although those were two concerns—he was stressed about what Fury would do to him physically. They would probably want to run some stupid tests and use his situation to their advantage. Tony didn’t want that. Nobody would want that. And yet—

“We have to, Stark,” Clint argued, his face held stoically still. Tony recoiled.

“I can’t,” he whined pathetically. He sounded like a lost puppy, but he needed them to understand. He desperately needed them to.

“We’ll be preparing the quinjet,” Natasha said, gesturing for Bruce to follow. Tony’s heart was swallowed by his stomach. He couldn’t believe this. He couldn’t let them tell Fury. He had to stop them.

Lurching forwards, Tony skidded to a stop in front of his two teammates. He bared his teeth, lowering his body challengingly. If they wanted to give him away, they’d have to fight him. Just like how they did for the scepter.

“Tony,” Bruce groaned. He sounded regretful. “I’m so sorry, but we need to do this. Please.”

_No,_ Tony thought, holding his ground. The air in the room was thick with tension. He could smell their reluctance, the palpable doubt that tainted their determined disguises.

For a fleeting, agonizing second, the terrible electricity of fight and fright buzzed through the air. Nobody dared to move, to blink, to do anything to set off the ticking bomb. It was arguably one of the most painful seconds in Tony’s life.

“Fine,” whispered a voice, quiet and hoarse. Tony turned to face the source of the trembling noise.

“Fine,” the voice repeated, finally shattering the rigid sharpness of the air, leaving only crippled fragments behind. It was Bruce. Of course it was. Bruce seemed to be the only person on Tony’s side right now, the only person willing to stand up for him. Tony bowed his head gratefully.

“I understand,” Bruce continued, despite the furious glares of Natasha and Steve being thrown his way. “I know what you want to avoid. I won’t tell them.”

Tony inclined his head upwards in surprise. Then, he blinked, shocked with comprehension. Of course Bruce knew what he was worried about. Bruce had had the same issue for years, but instead of it being due to a transformation, it was because of the Hulk.

Clint threw his hands up, twisting away from the team. Nobody seemed pleased about the outcome, but nobody was willing to argue, either. One by one, they all turned away, until only Bruce was left looking. Tony couldn’t express his gratitude in motions, or even words, for that matter. All he could do was try tugging the ends of his mouth upwards, giving himself a lopsided smile.

Luckily, Bruce returned it. Then he too turned away, but not before a siren shrieked, vibrating the room.

Everyone jumped into action, a habitual response. Tony watched as Steve grasped his shield and Clint his bow, launching themselves towards the quinjet landing pad. Natasha and Bruce were quick to follow, each carrying their own special assets. Tony could only stare, longing and morose. Despite potential abilities of fire and flight, he was useless again.

Although the alarm was loud, it was quieter than it had been last time it sounded. Tony knew it had to be JARVIS’ doing. He was eternally grateful for his AI, albeit he could still play with Tony’s nerves.

Tony could hear the engines roar to life and blast away, the noise reverberating throughout the tower. The sound echoed into his chest and settled there like an ache, hollow and whining. With a whimper, he moved over to the couch where he lay down, his back resting against the furniture.

“The Avengers are currently en route to Boston,” JARVIS said. “There was a potential twin spotting near a SI factory located there.”

_Another one?_ Tony questioned solemnly. _What the hell are they up to?_

Tony couldn’t think of a single possibility, other than making life more difficult for him. It was deeply troubling, if he was honest. He wasn’t making weapons anymore, so there was no way that was their intention. It all had to be leading up to something else. Something bigger, more serious. It was the only way.

Sniffling quietly, Tony curled closer to the couch. The floor felt so cold, the air so dry. The team was still out there, coordinating, attacking. Saving the facility. All without him. Fury would be having a goddamn panic attack after his second absence. He’d probably kick Tony off of the team.

_No,_ Tony denied. _The team wouldn’t let him. Bruce wouldn’t let him._

With sureness followed doubt. Would he really defend him? Tony hadn’t been anything but a nuisance lately. He had no reason to help him out again. The thought hurt, but it was true. But, oh god, did Tony ever want things to be different.

Then, minutes later, the silence was broken. Tony lurched upward as JARVIS spoke suddenly, alarmed. “Sir, the Avengers are having difficulty facing the twins. I have detected a strange magnetic field surrounding the factory. No technology is functional for at least two miles out from the facility.”

Oh, fuck. That wasn’t good news. Tony began whining, digging his claws into the carpet, looking up at the ceiling hopelessly.

“The Avengers are currently circling the border. I am afraid they will have to enter on foot.”

On foot? A two miles out? They’d have to sprint the whole way, and by the time they’d reach the facility, they’d be exhausted. Well, Bruce would be, at least. And, shit, the workers must be in danger—

“They’re entering now. I would highly recommend you to attempt to assist them, sir.”

Tony paused, his thoughts on halt, before scoffing. It was humorless and pained, forced and agonized. How the fuck would he be able to reach Boston? He didn’t know how to fly. He couldn’t go hop in a damn quinjet and magically save the day. JARVIS was being absolutely ridiculous.

“I understand your reluctance, sir, but I am afraid it is necessary. I believe if you were to try jumping from the roof of the tower, you should be able to catch the air flow in time to ensure a successful flight. You would simply follow the coastline South to the factory,” JARVIS explained.

Tony warbled again, but this time, it wasn’t full of disbelief. It was full of fear. Why? Because he was seriously considering it.

There was a moment where it seemed like the world froze. There was only Tony’s unfamiliar heartbeat and the heaving of his lungs. Could he do it? He didn’t fucking know. But as they say, there was only one way to find out.

Tony hadn’t even realized he was already in the elevator until he opened his eyes. It was gliding upwards, quick yet horrifyingly slow. The roof was nearing. Perhaps even his death was inching closer. The thought caused icy terror to flood his veins, freezing and prickling. God, did his chest ever hurt.

The doors opened. The night sky, beautiful and sempiternal, stretched forever above him. How could something so amazing hold such horrors? Tony’s breath revealed itself in front of his nose. It was a chilly night in New York, but Tony felt no cold. In fact, he almost felt better than he did inside. Alert and awake. It didn’t comfort him, though.

He shuffled towards the edge, suddenly wondering if others would see him. The city was awake, even at night. But maybe it wouldn’t even matter. Maybe he’d be dead soon, anyways. After a terrible descent. He hoped the team wouldn’t feel sorry for him.

_No, _Tony scolded. _I’m not dying. I’m built to fly. I will live. I _need_ to live._

His forepaws rested against the wall lining the tower’s top. The view was astounding from so high up. With his eyesight and vantage point, he could spot every detail. Nothing was left indistinct in his wake.

With a shallow breath, Tony backed away. There were several meters between him and the edge. Then, he lowered his head, stretching his wings wide. Bruce’s words rang in his head, clear and decisive. Tony had to move. If he didn’t now, he didn’t think he ever would.

He bounded forward.

The concrete was firm against his paws. Still, he picked up speed.

The edge was nearing.

His tail fins angled upwards, positioned for gliding. His breathing was hard and fast.

He leaped.

Tony gasped as the ground disappeared beneath him. He pressed his legs against his body and widened his wings as far as they’d go.

He began diving downwards.

_No. No, no no no._

He felt terror, worse than what he felt spiraling through the portal, flailing and lost. He tried to angle himself upwards, to align himself horizontally, but still he barreled towards the ground. It was to no avail. He was utterly petrified. This was it. This was fucking it.

_Imagine you’re balancing on water. That’s basically what flying is. Balancing on a layer of material._

Bruce’s words. Well, sort of. It was probably paraphrased. Nevertheless, it was advice he’d thought was insane. It washed into his mind in just a fleeting second, a final chance. It was all he had.

Tony closed his eyes. He imagined himself swimming in Malibu, before he hated water. He tried to picture himself floating on the surface, riding the waves on his stomach.

It was as though time became inert, the air thick, his limbs still. It was a moment of gentle peace, where for just a second, Tony felt okay. He may sound crazy, considering his was likely still hurdling toward the ground, but it was true. He truly felt okay.

Then, he opened his eyes.

And there was a building rapidly expanding in his vision.

Tony forcefully stifled a screech, twisting his tail fins to the right and swerving to the side. The change in gravity stole the air from Tony’s lungs, so he tipped to the left to right himself. The tip of his wing was only inches away from skimming the building, giving Tony an extra burst of terrified energy.

Yeah, maybe closing his eyes mid flight wasn’t the best idea. But it also wasn’t something to ponder over at the moment, as he was still dangerously close to the surrounding buildings. The proximity jolted his heart into frantic pulsing.

Flattening his tail fins, Tony beat his wings downwards, trying to push himself up higher into the air. His flaps were rough and uncoordinated, his shoulders struggling to bear his weight. It was as if he were battling the air with each pounding of his limbs. Luckily, Tony had adrenaline on his side.

To Tony’s great disbelief, his body began tilting upward. Energized with optimism, he hastened his wingbeats, trying to send himself higher into the sky. Although it was likely just an illusion, the stars almost appeared to be growing larger.

Tony’s breathing was heavy, tiredness seeping into his muscles. Thin clouds breezed just above him, rolling and changing with each passing second. When he glanced up, Tony noticed that he was almost close enough to touch them. Perhaps he was high enough.

Shifting his tail fins upward again, Tony straightened out his wings, evening out into a glide. The air felt so much lighter near the clouds, thin and cool. It swam beneath Tony’s body, caressing him, keeping him afloat. Bruce was right. It really was like swimming.

Then, relaxation swept through him, easing his tense demeanor. His body was gifted with exhilaration. He had done it. He’d taken off. He’d survived. He was _flying_.

And he loved it.


End file.
